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Notes from the Trail
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Trailhead: Rock Cut Parking Area Trailhead Elevation: 12,090' Destination Elevation: 12,304' Elevation Gain: 214' Total Roundtrip Miles: 1 mile This summer, I have enjoyed some spectacular hiking into the backcountry areas of Park. Last week, I changed things up a bit and visited a variety of shorter hikes. I began my day by taking a walk on the tundra.
I entered the Park at sunrise, the first rays of the sun lighting up the clouds that were forming. By the time I reached Many Parks Curve, the sunrise was putting on quite a show. Note: click on each photo for a larger image.
The Tundra Communities trail begins at the Rock Cut pullout on Trail Ridge Road, at an elevation of 12,090', according to a sign posted on one of the restrooms at the parking lot. The 1/2 mile trail is paved and there are not any steps on the trail. The first part of the trail ramps up a ways before leveling off. Of course, there are mountain peak views in every direction.
On this day in late August, the sky was fairly overcast. But the sun found a break in the clouds and shone down on the Never Summer Range to the west. Looking to the northwest, the smoke from the Cameron Peak fire was laying low and filling the valleys below.
Along the trail, there are interesting rock formations of dark colored schist that originated at the bottom of a sea. The lighter colored granite pushed in as magma. The granite erodes more quickly than the schist and forms forming mushroom shaped rocks.
The trail offers the hiker plenty of informative interpretive signs where one can stop and rest while taking in the view.
The best time to see the tundra in full bloom is mid summer. But the tundra is rich in autumn colors right now and it's not as crowded with other hikers.
The trail dead ends at a high point of rock formations. If you scramble up the rocks, you will find a memorial plaque Roger Toll, the first superintendent for this Park. You can read more on the Park history here and on Trail Ridge Road here.  Longs Peak from the Tundra Communities trail
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Story and photos (except the last one) by Barb Boyer Buck Before I go into details of the Cow Creek Trailhead hiking opportunities, there are several things to keep in mind. First, parking is extremely limited and fills up quickly. Roadside parking, or parking in a homeowner's driveway is strictly forbidden. Respectful usage of this trailhead is a must as there are sensitive ecosystems, private land, active researchers, and lots of wildlife also inhabiting the Cow Creek Valley. The McGraw Ranch Road, which is your only access to this trailhead, is a dirt road with mild washboards and can be easily accessed from Devil's Gulch Road, on the north side of Estes Park. If you want to hike this trail, my advice would be to go very early in the morning, or late afternoon. Please remember in the summer months, afternoons often bring thunderstorms and several portions of this hike crosses wide-open meadows. It is not advisable to hike during a thunderstorm, lightening strikes are a very real possibility. If you find yourself wanting to hike this trail at any other time of the day, the best thing to do is have someone drop you off at the trailhead; however, cell phone reception is pretty much non-existent in the area. If you decide on this option, have a plan to meet at a specific time with the understanding that idling cars waiting to pick up delayed hikers are also not permitted. Instruct your driver to check back occasionally if you are not there when you expected to be.
The site of the old McGraw Ranch still has buildings, including one that has been standing since 1871, the original homestead cabin of Harry Farrar. Others were built between 1884-1887, and most of the guest cabins were built between 1935-1936 by Frank and John McGraw (for more history of the ranch's early days, see part one of The Cow Creek Trail, published last week).
Researchers from Northern Colorado, Colorado State University, and the University of Colorado, along with the United States Geological Survey, now use the surrounding land as an outdoor laboratory. Onsite housing, laboratories, meeting rooms, and dining areas for these individuals are provided by the ranch buildings. The renovation of the buildings started in 1999, the culmination of a partnership between the NTHP and several private citizens to restore the McGraw Ranch buildings to their heyday as a guest ranch, between 1936-1955. The research center opened in 2003, becoming an important site to gather significant data in RMNP; Rocky Mountain National Park is designated as a United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural (UNESCO) international biosphere reserve. From butterflies (there are 142 species confirmed in RMNP) to climate change, these studies provide important, scientifically-gathered information for the entire world.  Morning sunrise on the Cow Creek trail I started my hike at dawn, just before 6 a.m., at the research center. Very soon, the trail has an intersection on the right with the North Boundary Trail which branches up and east. The beginning of the way to Bridal Veil Falls was lit with the sun at my back, glorious coloring the late-summer vegetation and a whitetail deer, grazing along the edge of the trail.  A deer enjoys the early-morning light on Cow Creek Trail.
 Early morning on the Cow Creek Trail. The first part of the hike is a beautiful meadow that climbs a bit before it wanders back to Cow Creek. For most of the hike, you can hear its rushing or trickling waters, something I enjoy very much. It's so relaxing. I needed a bit of calming down because I was anxious about taking this hike by myself, the first one with a distance of more 2 miles I've taken on my own since my back surgery. And there was no one else on the trail that early in the morning.  The Cow Creek trail Every rustle in the trees had me looking - this is bear country after all! It's also a hunting ground for mountain lions, although it's very rare to see these creatures anywhere near humans. A bit further down the road comes another trail crossing, this time giving you the option to turn left to hook up with the Lumpy Ridge Trail to visit Balanced Rock and Gem Lake.  The connection with the Lumpy Ridge Trailhead leads to Balanced Rock & Gem Lake.
Just beyond this spot, there are some steep rocks before the trail picks up again. I didn't dare do this on my own so I guess neither horses nor I would get any further.
It was frustrating because ED. (more about ED. next week) told me I was essentially there, but I couldn't chance it. Just a few weeks ago, a woman took a tumbling fall, sustaining serious injuries, above Bridal Veil falls (see more info here: https://www.rockymountaindayhikes.com/rmnp-updates.html) So, I ate some fruit, drank some water and started back. I saw several more people on the trail and I was grateful to be coming back. The sun was higher now, and it was starting to get hot.
When I passed through the meadows again, the butterflies were flitting all around me, enjoying the late-August sunshine. It took me about five hours to do six miles roundtrip but remember, I stopped to take many pictures along the way. It was worth it and I needed it. It was the first morning without any smoke haze after two days of good rain. The air was clear, the sky was blue and the morning light was perfect. Happy hiking, everyone!  Bridal Veil Falls (photo taken at mid-June) Trailhead: Finch Lake Trailhead Elevation: 8,476' Destination Elevation: Finch Lk-9,925', Pear Lk-10,594', Cony Lk-11,512' Total Roundtrip Miles: Finch Lk-10, Pear Lk-12.4, Cony Lk-18.4 In the south end of Rocky Mountain National Park, as part of the Wild Basin trail system, there are a series of lakes that begin at the Finch Lake trailhead and can give the dayhiker some options on a trail that is not too crowded, but the destinations are all longer hikes.
The trail actually loses some elevation on the last strech to Finch Lake. There are a couple of good rock spots along the eastern shoreline to enjoy this peaceful lake.  Finch Lake Finch Lake is a comfortable distance for many dayhikers, and well worth the effort. But for another 2.5 miles, you can also bag Pear Lake. The trail skirts around the north side of Finch Lake, then drops a bit more to a footbridge crossing Cony Creek. There's not too much elevation gain between the two lakes and the trail is pleasant.
This trial is not an official trail of the Park. It is not maintained and there will be some downfall to climb over, for example. If the dayhiker is going to travel here, you will want to plan on a much longer day. After passing the lower of the three Hutcheson Lakes, the trail can be difficult to keep track of, so it's necessary to have an awareness of your surroundings. Having a topographical map and knowing how to read it is also a good idea. This is a pristine alpine environment, so travel carefully. Follow the small trail to reach the Middle Hutcheson Lake.  Middle Hutcheson Lake
  Middle Hutcheson Lake The three Hutcheson Lakes each sit on a self with the lower lake still below treeline, the middle lake in the subalpine and the upper lake right at treeline. Carefully navigate over rock outcrops that look over Middle Hutcheson Lake to reach into the upper basin and Upper Hutcheson Lake.  Approaching Upper Hutcheson Lake The upper Cony Basin begins to come into full view as the dayhiker approaches Upper Hutcheson Lake. Cony Pass that leads over to the Bluebird Lake basin to the north, can be seen in the distance. Ogalalla Peak can also be seen now. 
On our day, we decided to travel up to the base of Coney Pass. The pass is steep with lots of loose scree.
 Ogalalla Peak We reach our high point standing below Ogalalla Peak. The summit, 13,138', is part of the Continental Divide and is a high point marking the south boarder line of the National Park.  Cony Lake and Elk Tooth We then turn our attention east looking at where we have come, and now our return route. We can see Cony Lake below us. Nearby is the prominent Elk Tooth with Meadow Mountain in the far distance. Both of these peaks define the southeast boundary of Rocky Mountain National Park. by Barb Boyer Buck Imagine it's 150 years ago (I do this all the time). Imagine you have made the long trek via horseback to the beautiful mountain valley of Estes Park. At that time, Colorado was a territory of the US and the land was declared "public" by the Homestead Act. Every piece of the valley that is not already developed is open for homesteading. All you have to do is pick out your 160-acre parcel, "improve" the property, and pay a small registration fee. Put yourself in that scene. What is your personal perspective? Are you a child, part of a family looking for a new home? Are you sick of the towns where you live and want some peace and quiet in the Colorado mountains? Do you fancy yourself a wilderness man or woman, fiercely independent and resourceful? You're itching to live off the land and figure things out for yourself. Whatever your perspective, I'm sure you'll agree. The homesteading narrative is romantic and adventurous. Let's say you’re a big game hunting guide and you marvel at the wide-open fields below you as you crest that final hill over Estes Park. It's the late summer of 1871, and the basin looks mostly dry, with only the snake of the Big Thompson River slicing through it (there was no lake back then). You notice the prime spots along the river were already claimed. Now, suppose you ride north in the valley, where the mountains meet the meadows and the elk are plentiful. Finally, you see it. The Cow Creek Valley.  Looking north from the lodge porch, near the Cow Creek Trailhead. Photo by Barb Boyer Buck The creeks in this valley have been slicing a sliver out of the surrounding Rocky Mountains for millions of years. Upon investigation, you find the valley is more than wide enough to establish a viable homestead and the entire drainage is covered in lush foliage. Imagine you stop to take a drink from the stream. (Don't do that today unless you treat the water!) These are not the exact circumstances that led Henry Farrar to eventually homestead the area in 1871, but it's probably close. These are the kind of things I like to think of when I talk about hikes in historic sites within Rocky Mountain National Park but when I was a kid, I hated history. I struggled in class to remember dates, names, events. I only fell in love with history while I earned a BA in Anthropology.
Suddenly, I found context in past events. I studied possible motivations for historical figures. I found similarities between myself and everyone who came before me. I can imagine myself into the mindset of someone in Estes Park, 150 years ago. In the case of the Cow Creek Valley, I can imagine the stirring excitement of the situation, being given just enough help through the Homestead Act to get myself started in something entirely my own. In reality, Estes Park had long been the hunting grounds for native Americans, a summer stop on their nomadic routes. Just because a place had never been permanently settled, doesn't mean anyone should claim it. It had been a public, shared, space for ten thousand years before the homesteaders arrived. Several buildings near the original homestead near Cow Creek were finished in 1887 after the property was developed with its sale in 1884. The barn, the lodge, the bunkhouse, and two additional cabins started this valley along another journey. It provided water for cows and the family that lived there. I imagine an idyllic scene, exactly how you'd imagine what a Little-House-on-the-Prairie homestead would be like here, in its perfect riparian ecosystem. Bounteous and cozy.
I'm an environmentalist, so I understand the damage human development has affected on our ecosystem, but the feeling of adventure, possibility, and excitement is intoxicating. John and Irene McGraw, grandparents of the surviving McGraw lineage, bought the ranch outright in 1909. John set it up so there could never be any debt on it. There was no way any of his kin was going to gamble with the family home by using it as leverage in other concerns. This pioneer tradition of establishing family ranches can be found in nearly every rural town, including those close to a National Park. Frank and his brother John, sons of the senior McGraws, turned the place into a dude ranch in 1936 by building additional cabins, eager to get in on the action so many in the area had at the time by taking in lodgers.  Frank McGraw and his wife, Ruth, ride in the Cow Creek Valley in this hand-colored photo. Photo from a private collection.
The McGraw family was the backbone of the operation and was living onsite, but everyone had to move to a hotel in Estes Park to make room for the Landon family and his campaign. Secret service personnel were housed in the bunkhouse, the Landon family lived in the lodge. The McGraws would return to the ranch every day to cook for everyone and take them on horse rides. One of the most popular rides was to Bridal Veil Falls. Eventually, this well-trodden path became the Cow Creek Trail. After Landon's visit, the McGraw Ranch was on the map and the family, eventually including Frank's wife and five daughters, were essential to its success during its 52 years of operation as a guest ranch. In 1988, The McGraw Ranch was sold to the National Park Service and became part of Rocky Mountain National Park. Go to Part Two of The Cow Creek Trail next week when I will describe trail specifics, more historical anecdotes, and explain what the McGraw Ranch buildings are being used for today.  A placard at the Cow Creek Trailhead explains the McGraw's ranch past as a guest ranch. Trailhead: Lawn Lake Trailhead Elevation: 8,540' Destination Elevation: 10,559' Total Elevation Gain: 2,180' Total Roundtrip Miles: 9.4 The trail to Ypsilon Lake is a quiet trail traveling up to a fine alpine lake. This can be a casual dayhike if not in a rush. However, with careful route finding, there can be adventure opportunity by trekking beyond the lake.
The hike begins at the Lawn Lake trailhead at the west end of Horseshoe Park.
The initial trail rises off the broad valley floor on the northern side with occasional views of Endovalley and Sundance Peak.
The trail then rises quickly again and maintains a steady uphill pace as it meanders through lodgepole pine. Eventually, there's a welcoming view of Ypsilon Mountain through the trees. From here, the trail drops to the lake.
When the trail reaches Ypsilon Lake, the views are to the east. There is a non-established 'fisherman's trail' that skirts along the south shore of the lake and a little careful navigation along the eastern shore brings one around to views of Mt Chiquita. The surrounding terrain blocks the view of Ypsilon Mt from the lake.
At the inlet to Ypsilon Lake, there a small footbridge and a path that leads to a beautiful waterfall, a must see if traveling to the lake. My hiking partner and I decided to further. Again, with careful navigation up steep terrain, an unmaintained trail leads up to the spectacular Spectacle Lakes, surrounded by rocky terrain, at the very foot of Ypsilon Mountain, now on full display. 
After having a break, and considering working our way to the upper lake, with still plenty of summer sun, we opted for a different route. The Spectacle Lakes are embraced by two long named ridges that come off the summit of Ypsilon Mtn like two arms, popular in the alpine climbing world, the Donner Ridge on the south and the Blitzen Ridge to the north. After careful examination, we picked a route on the far east end of Blitzen Ridge to traverse into the Fay Lakes region.
We were treated by a very brief visit by this little critter, either an ermine or a long-tailed weasel. It was hard to get a good look at it because it moved around so quick, and then disappeared.  There are numerous small waterfalls between the upper and middle Fay Lakes. Blitzen Ridge of Ypsilon Mtn is in the background. We navigated quickly down to the Middle Fay Lake and then picked up a faint trail marked by rock cairns back to Ypsilon Lake.  Trailhead: Chapin Pass (on Old Fall River Road) Trailhead Elevation: 11,020' Destination Elevation: 13,514' Total Elevation Gain: 3,134' Total Roundtrip Miles: 8.5 Scenic mountain peaks are the hallmark of Rocky Mountain National Park. But reaching the summit of many peaks can be challenging if not impossible for the dayhiker. However, with a little uphill effort, the Chapin, Chiquita, & Ypsilon trail off of the Old Fall River Road affords three summits within easy reach.
As we begin our early morning hike, a Clark's Nutcracker calls up the sun.
We ascend into the alpine with the trail leading us into the morning sunlight.
We are stopped by a White-tailed Ptarmigan standing watch along the trail, then suddenly notice five little chicks crossing the trail. While we watch them wander off, we look back and see Lava Cliffs off of Trail Ridge Road in the distance.
It would be easy to walk right by the side trial that leads up Mount Chapin. From the summit of this lowest of the three peaks (12,454'), we could see Horseshoe Park and Deer Mountain to the east. We backtrack back down to the main trail and continue up Mount Chiquita. Looking across to Mt Chapin, we can see tiny hikers on the summit.
The trail up Mount Chiquita can be a little difficult to keep track of, but there are rock cairns marking the way up. This is a steep and sustained part of the hike requiring numerous stops to catch our breath and take in the surroundings.
We look down on Lake Chiquita from the summit of Mount Chiquita (13,069') and take a much needed snack break while enjoying the 360 degree views. To the novice geologist, these exposed rocks on the summit appear to be sedimentary layers, perhaps from an old ocean bottom, that was uplifted over the millennium.
We enjoy the patches of alpine wildflowers bringing color to the otherwise sparse landscape while we climb up the last of the three peak series, Ypsilon Mountain (13,514'). It felt like a lot of effort to drop elevation off of Mt Chiquita and then climb back up Ypsilon Mtn. But gazing down on the Spectacle Lakes made the effort worth it.
After our return decent off of Ypsilon Mtn, we skirt below Mt Chiquita. There may have been a trail crossing here, but we didn't see it and we carefully made our way back, rock hopping where we could, before reconnecting with the trail.
Journeying back on the trail across the tundra, and feeling satisfied with our accomplishment, we marveled at the surrounding rocky mountain vistas. After finishing our drive up Old Fall River Road, we stop off at the Lava Cliffs pull over on Trail Ridge Road and gazed upon the three peaks we had just climbed. What a fantastic way to spend our morning!
 Alpine Avens carpet the tundra
The trail passes by and in front of numerous mountain peaks and you can use numerous rest stops with a map figuring out what all the names of the peaks are. At about the halfway mark, the trail begins its drop into the Tonahutu Creek drainage and back into the trees.  Nakai Peak and the Haynach Lakes basin from the Tonahutu Cr trail
"Little and Big Dutch Creeks remind us of eight Germans who formed a clique in Lulu City, as did groups of Irishmen and Swedes. Each nationality had a nickname, the Germans being known as Dutch. One night the Dutchmen, home from a spree at Grand Lake, started a free-for-all in Lulu. When the smoke cleared away, the townspeople found much damage, including a broken arm on a respectable woman. Blaming the Dutchmen, the majority of citizens ordered them out of town. The Germans climbed to the west, settling two miles above on Big Dutch Creek." ~ High Country Names, 1972
The hike to Lake of the Clouds is rich in beautiful scenery as well as history. It is located in the Never Summer Range on the west edge of the Park.
 In the early part of the summer season, a large and steep snowfield covers over the rocky trail. Though a thin layer of soft snow may make crossing this snowfield appear safe, there's still hard ice underneath and it is quite easy to take a fast, hard slide into the boulders below. Crampons are the safest way to travel here.  Lake of the Clouds is large and sits at the base of Howard Mtn and Mt Cirrus  The glaciated moraine that holds the lake is covered with alpine wildflowers, such as Alpine Avens and Sky Pilots.
 A small snowmelt pond with views to the east and Mt Ida.  There's some very interesting geology in the basin, with very decorative rocks and boulders.
 Looking south across the Lead Mtn basin to Howard Mtn and Lake of the Clouds.  The trail off of The Grand Ditch that leads back to the trailhead. 10,000ft. If you are hiking one of the trails originating from the Bear Lake area, that’s about the elevation where you will run into snow, including the trail to Dream Lake, Lake Haiyaha, or the Flattop trial, which also connects to the trail to Odessa Lk. These snow obstacles can be slippery and fun, or slick and treacherous. And sometimes, the winter packed snow trails can lead you off the summer trail. That can make travel even more difficult. Last week, my hiking partner and I headed up the flattop trail. We were not sure what the snow situation would be like, but we decided to find out.
My hiking partner brought his micro spikes and he was glad he had. I assumed the snow would be packed but soft enough without, which worked fine for me. Of course, a group of young women past us in their sneakers and that got me thinking about snow tires. Because the rubber of winter snow tires are designed to stay soft in colder temperature, they are able to grip the road better. I wondered if the same idea applied to sneakers. Trail musings.
A snack stop at the Dream Lake overlook would have to mark our accomplishment for that day. It was a gorgeous day and we lingered taking in the awesome view and mountain air. We were joined by a Clark’s Nutcracker who also was enjoying the day.  Looking across to Longs Pk and the Glacier Gorge The More Things Change, the More They Stay the SameBy Barb Boyer Buck “What’s on your butt and why are you going to Cleveland?” I looked over at my dad who was sitting next to me while I was driving. I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Barb! The speed limit is 45!” he said. Oops, I was going 50. I was excited about driving up above treeline on Trail Ridge Road and wasn’t paying close attention. Also, for the first time in decades, it was a beautiful, early June afternoon and the traffic was sparse. I was giddy about this – it had been more than 20 years since I’ve seen visitation this light in Rocky on a glorious summer day. I was driving his car, so I respected his wishes and slowed to 45 mph. Almost immediately, a large truck was tail-gaiting me. “See, now there’s a bozo on my butt since I’m going the speed limit!” I said, but Don heard differently. All three of us broke out in uproarious laughter when I explained to my dad that what he heard as Cleveland was “speed limit” and nothing was wrong with my butt. One of the things I love most about my parents is their senses of humor. When RMNP announced the timed-entry reservation system would start on June 4, I made a reservation for the first day. It is required to present your receipt (paper copy or downloaded onto your phone) at the entrance gate and that you enter during the time period you reserved. I told my parents my reservation was from 8-10 a.m. and asked they pick me up by 8.
Note to self: next time, tell them to be someplace one hour before I really need them there. There were rangers standing on the road, right before we reached the Beaver Meadows entrance of RMNP at about 9 a.m. to make sure we had made a reservation and then at the gate we showed rangers our reservation confirmation. My dad had a heart attack three years ago; he turned 78 this year. Sprague Lake was the perfect spot, I thought, for a small hike. We took a slight detour to show them the handicapped accessible camping spot. There is virtually no elevation gain and it’s a half-mile jaunt around the perimeter of this lake, which was created by Abner Sprague when he was building is lodge there in 1914. To my surprise, my parents had never been there. Our family moved to Colorado Springs in 1979 and my parents owned a house in Longmont for 30 years before they downsized to a smaller place in Johnstown, just two years ago. I had hiked with my parents in Rocky many times before; I guess we were all younger then and did more strenuous hikes.
While preparing for this trip, I had suggested to my dad that he bring his pole & flies. “I don’t have a current fishing license,” he said. What? I had envisioned Mom & I hiking while my dad fished – that’s what we had always done in the past while us kids were growing up, on the South Platte River at Deckers, in southern Colorado. But that was 40 years ago, I reminded myself. My mother was having a wonderful time – she loved discovering the different wildflowers and encouraged me to take close-up shots of everything. “That one is called Frauenschue,” she said, pointing at a golden banner. My mother is German and grew up in a small town in Bavaria, exploring the woods and hills of Ober Franken. Frauenschue translates to “women’s slippers.” “Oh, I think that’s a wild hazelnut bush!” she exclaimed. “After the war (WWII), my mother sent us kids out to the woods to pick them. We ate a few (they were so sweet!), but kept most of them because she would grind them up to make flour and cookies.” Hermine pointed out wild strawberries and gooseberries as well. She stopped to marvel at the striated granite rocks and pieces of wood with interesting markings from insect infestation. I think I get my excitement at seeing beautiful nature from my mother, who notices every detail. She doesn’t hide her enthusiasm when she is pointing these things out, and it’s an absolute joy to be with her in nature (unless she starts talking too loud to my dad, which can scare off the wildlife.)
“How can I take pictures if I have those in both hands?” he said. I pointed out the loops attached the handles. “You just let go of your poles & take a picture,” I explained. He finally agreed and was soon out-pacing my mother and I, who stopped often to admire the flora and features around us.
So, we hiked up there. Again, my father was outpacing my mom and I who were discovering more plants and flowers. On the way down we got caught in a sudden rainstorm and were pelted, somewhat painfully, with hail.
Note to self: patience is the key when dealing with children and elderly parents. Our drive up to the top of Trail Ridge Road was everything I hoped it would be. On that day, it was very warm and the snow that had been recently plowed through to open the pass was melting quickly, rivulets of snowmelt were everywhere. But Mom & Pop were too tired to take the trip all the way down to Grand Lake, so we turned around and drove back down to Estes Park.
beach, or the redwood forests, or vacationing in Yosemite National Park. In Colorado, you guys were older but we still went fishing and hiking all day. “What I liked was we also saw a lot of young families with their small children, instilling in them the love of nature. We saw people our age still hiking, even if they needed polls or sticks.” My skeptical and stubborn dad had a great time, too. “I was reluctant to go, having been almost exclusively in my house for about 100 days, but the park has been a favorite destination since I moved to Northern Colorado in 1988,” said Don. “We go two to five times a year on average and every trip before was enjoyable.“This time, with the Covid-19 around, I was not sure I wanted to be around people that much and the park has always been full in the past with heavy car and foot traffic. But I went because, 1. There were reservations to minimize attendance, 2. This is the best time to see the park emerging from its delayed winter, and 3. My daughter is a very persistent person, and enjoyable company.” Note to self: remember everyone, no matter what their age, have irritating quirks and differences in approach to life, including me. Both of my parents agreed the air was cleaner, the visibility was greater. “The whole park looks refreshed, like the pandemic gave it a breather,” said my mom. “Trail Ridge Road was always a special place for me,” she said. “It always showed me how unimportant we as humans are, even if we think we are so important. In other words, the park put me back to reality.” “The problem with the timed arrivals is that there are no timed departures,” Don said. “We, like I imagine most other visitors, decided that once we arrived, we were going to stay as long as possible. The result is, of course, that the further in the day, the more crowded the park became. “The air was crystal clear, even though we were breathing it through masks, a practice that about half the visitors seem to employ. The clarity of the air allowed us to see and photo extremely detailed features on the far horizon,” he said. It was a wonderful day for many reasons. I enjoyed reconnecting with my parents and reminiscing about the times we hiked as a family over the years. My mother experienced the burgeoning wildflowers and plants that she enjoyed so much. And my grumpy old dad got a little less grumpy. “Returning home, we felt that peaceful defusing of nerves that had started on entering the park and continued well into the night,” he said. “I realized that I needed that trip. I have three months of tension to get rid of, and Rocky Mountain National Park had once again worked its wonders.” With the reopening of Rocky Mountain National Park, things have begun to feel a bit more 'normal' for visitors and residents of Estes Park. I recently enjoyed early morning hikes to Estes Cone, Chasm Lake and Mount Lady Washington. The trails were almost completely dry and uncrowded. Upon return to the Longs Peak Trailhead post-hike, the parking lot was about one quarter full on the days that I visited.  Rebecca Detterline with The Diamond from the summit of Mt Lady Washington.
On Friday, June 5, I completed the Bear Lake to Fern Lake Shuttle hike. The experience was quite different from years past for many reasons. Three of us girls made reservations for two cars and met at the Beaver Meadows Visitor Center at 6:30 a.m., just as law enforcement officers were setting up two emergency vehicles and stopping all cars to make sure folks were aware of reservation requirement. We dropped a car at the Fern Lake Shuttle Stop and took the second car up to the Bear Lake Trailhead. There was plenty of parking at both locations. We encountered snow about one mile into the hike and the trail remained snow-packed until the turnoff for Odessa Lake. There is more snow in Odessa Gorge than I have ever experienced outside of winter. Microspikes are a must as the trail crosses several snow gullies. I worked hard to kick in deep steps and my sneakers got absolutely soaked. For those unfamiliar with steep snow travel, these crossings will likely be scary and dangerous. A lightweight ice axe would be a good idea for added security. We saw few people on this section of the trail: a group of campers at the Sourdough site who warned us about the treacherous snow and a solo female hiker who had come up from Fern Lake. The views of Grace Falls, Notchtop Mountain and the Little Matterhorn were especially stunning after such a long hiatus from hiking in RMNP.
We were two of three people on the small shuttle to Park and Ride, but there was quite a wait to board the larger shuttle to Bear Lake. Eighteen people are allowed on each shuttle to provide for social distancing. Almost everyone at the Park and Ride wore face coverings. It was the largest group of people I had been around in quite some time. The sign on Bear Lake Road just before Park and Ride reported that Bear Lake Parking was full, which likely contributed to the crowds on the shuttle system. Upon arrival, we noted that the Bear Lake parking lot was about two-thirds full. It took an hour total to get from Fern Lake Shuttle Stop to Bear Lake via the shuttle system at 1:00 in the afternoon on a Friday. I would highly recommend hiking to The Pool, Fern Falls and Fern Lake from the Fern Lake Trailhead. I would suggest waiting a few weeks to attempt the Bear Lake to Fern Lake shuttle hike unless all participants are well-versed in snow travel. Policies, rules, and closures are changing as quickly as trail conditions. I hope we can all continue to be kind and patient, especially to our hard-working National Park employees. For the latest updates, visit Current Conditions - Rocky Mountain National Park (U.S. National Park Service). Reservations to enter Rocky Mountain National Park can be made at Recreation.gov. Did the Park survive without us? Yes it did. Rocky Mountain National Park reopened just over a week ago after being closed for about two months due to corona virus concerns. When I first drove into The Park on the eve of that opening day, it was like returning to a familiar place that I had not visited in a while, like returning home. I looked around to see if anything had changed, but everything was still as it was before, excepting that the aspens were leafing and Moraine Park was greening.
It was a beautiful evening at Bear Lake. I also did a quick jaunt up to Alberta Falls, and then caught a beautiful sunset at Sprague Lake. Not a bad reintroduction.
I, for one, am happy that they are limiting the number of cars entering the Park and spreading the traffic throughout the day. But, it will be different and it will take some getting used to. The lines of cars going into the Park on this morning was not long and it was difficult to gauge how full the parking lots at the trailheads might be this late in the morning. I decided to find out. First I went to the Glacier Gorge parking lot where our trailhead for Mills Lake was, but not surprisingly, the small parking lot was completely full. We drove up to Bear Lake to see if there was anything in this bigger lot, but they were turning people around, that lot was also full. So, we headed back down to the Park-and-Ride Lot. A fruitless effort that probably cost us 20-30 min.
It did not take us long to get to our destination, it would have been better if we had just committed to using the shuttle in the first place. We were the only ones to de-bus at the Glacier Gorge Trailhead, everybody else was heading up to Bear Lake. We left our masks on thinking that the trailhead might be crowded, but a Park volunteer and another couple were the only ones there. I didn’t check, but I believe the restrooms were open.
What we found is that most everybody was attempting to keep a physical distance when passing on the trail. Many did have some sort of neck gator or bandana around the neck and were prepared to raise them as a mask, although most did not do that, and we quickly followed the practice feeling comfortable in our setting. We did occasionally encounter those that did raise their mask as they approached us and, in that case, we did also. It felt more like like a friendly gesture in passing. It reminded me of the movie A Knights Tale when two jousters preparing to joust with their protective head gear on would lift their lances in a friendly exchange as the past each other.
National Park mask ($9.99, $8.49 for members). Wearing that mask would be a way to stay safe and look good, while also supporting Rocky! The trail to Alberta Falls was covered by some snow, but it was easy enough to divert around and I can imagine most of that snow is gone by now, the snow is melting fast! Alberta Falls was flowing very full with snow melt. But once past Alberta Falls, we encountered more snow on the trail and occasionally we had to pause to let someone cross on the narrow packed snow trails, or they waited for us, everyone making an effort to social distance, or when that wasn't possible, turning away while someone passed. Though it seemed unfriendly, usually the other person said thanks, acknowledging the effort. While we hiked, I was able to try out a new app called GPSMyHike, soon to be released. It’s an app developed by Rocky Mountain Day Hikes and this was the first time I was able to try it out.
It wasn’t until after we passed the trail cutoff for The Loch Vale that we found sections of the trail mostly covered with considerable snow, and the snow was slippery and softening. On one steeper section of the trail, we stepped aside for a mother with a young child on her back in a kid pack while holding the hand of another chid that was slipping down the slope. I commended her on her ability to stay up right! She was followed by an elderly couple that was very glad to have spikes strapped onto their shoes. The husband commented on how glorious it was at the lake with the mountains all around. They were enjoying their day in the mountains.
Finally, we made it to the lake and there were all kinds of terrific large, sunny flat rocks to have a picnic by this spectacular mountain lake. It was great to be back in the Park!!  Mills Lake
 While I am always excited to see a place for the first time, attain a new summit or fish in a lake I’ve never visited, spring is the time of year to find comfort in the familiar; to return to the trails we’ve hiked dozens, if not hundreds of times. What a gift it is to revisit a favorite tree or boulder, to note the ever-melting snow drifts and enjoy the spring wildflowers as they begin to bloom seemingly one species at a time.
After the flood of 2013, the NPS put in a beautiful new bridge below the falls to replace the one that was washed away. I see a lot of folks admiring Ouzel Falls from this vantage point. It’s a lovely view, but an extra couple of minutes of rock-hopping and ducking under tree limbs will take you right up to the base of the falls. Regardless of what else may be going on in my life, any day I get to feel the spray of a waterfall is a pretty good day. Once the snow melts out, hikers can continue on an unmarked trail up to the big beautiful valley through which Ouzel Creek meanders before plummeting 40 feet and joining the North Saint Vrain Creek. This valley, which lies within the scar of the Ouzel Burn of 1978, is a lovely place to spend an afternoon fly fishing for small brook trout or simply enjoying the sounds of the gurgling creek while Ouzel Peak towers above you in the distance. Like me, the young aspens and fireweed in this area got their start on this beautiful planet during the summer of 1979. Nature presents us with many silent metaphors. The juxtaposition of charred trees and wildflowers reminds us that what appears completely void of life can be reborn. Calypso Orchids alongside a trail carpeted in last year’s dead aspen leaves give hope that that which appears to be completely void of life may be just moments from blooming. May we embrace this season of renewal and awakening with gratitude for the quiet lessons from Mother Earth. This is the season to return to return to the places that have greeted us year after year. Spring is a wonderful time to rediscover the lower elevation hikes in RMNP while reflecting on the past year and looking forward to the one that lies ahead. In addition to Ouzel Falls, my favorite spring hikes include Fern Falls, Bridal Veil Falls, West Creek Falls and MacGregor Falls. Mount Lady Washington is a lovely (although much more strenuous) springtime favorite at 13,281’. While the high peaks remain guarded by the lingering snow, I choose to embrace the springtime and its gifts, knowing that the season to stand atop summit after summit is just around the corner. “Hope is not born on mountain tops, but in valleys when you’re looking to the heights and peaks that you’ve yet to climb.”  Alpine Spring Beauty It's time for Ask Dr. Day Hikes: Dear RMDH, Hi! Do you know if flowers are starting to bloom along the Fern Lake Trail? ML KD Thanks for the question ML KD! The trail is definitely hike ready to The Pool and up to Fern Falls. Flowers are just starting to bloom along the lower section of the Fern Lake trail. I saw a few patches of Alpine Spring Beauties and the yellow Hollygrape mostly (and dandelions). And the aspens are starting to leaf out. As I drove into Moraine Park, I could see that the upper Big Thompson River had swelled to the top of the river banks from spring runoff, but has yet to flood the meadow. I also noticed that the parking at the Cub Lake trailhead was full at mid-day. mid-week in mid-May. The road to the Fern Lake trailhead was open and the parking lot there was full as well. As the photos below show, the trail to The Pool was snow free and dry, though not entirely runoff free. There were only a few snow patches of snow approaching Fern Falls and the Falls only had snow along the edges. I did not hike to Fern Lake but hikers coming sown said there was still a packed snow trail to the Lake and about knee deep snow if you stepped off the snow trail.
 Mourning Cloak Butterfly
 Flowering Creeping Hollygrape
 Fern lake trail approaching Fern Falls  Fern Falls There's good hiking snow free at Wild Basin for a few miles, but only because the road to the Wild Basin trailhead is closed a mile before. That didn't stop an overflow parking lot of people from getting out on Sunday, people are anxious to get hiking. And the trail is mostly snow free and not terribly muddy up to Lower Copeland Falls. After that, it's a mix but drying out, up to the bridge over the North St. Vrain River. The river if also snow free up to that point, but only starting to swell with spring runoff. However, the final uphill stretch after the bridge quickly becomes snow covered, and it's slick going from there on.
The lower portion of the Deer Mtn trail is in great shape. But once in the trees, there was plenty of snow coverage, and it was slick. The legs are tense all the way up and down trying to stay upright. Once on the flat top portion, before the final summit push, the snowshoer from the last snow couldn't find the trail. So there are all kinds of people following the wanderings of this semi lost snowshoer, and as the the snow melts, people are walking over vegetation and postholing at fallen logs. But the wayward snow trail does eventually make it's way to the summit. Subscribe to Note from the Trail rockymountaindayhikes.com/deer-mountain-31.html  Hikers on the lower portion of the Deer Mtn trail, with part of The Mummy Range in view.
 The dramatic clouds that was forming on the Continental Divide would occasionally give birth to isolated snow showers which would sweep east. The Cub Lake trail starts as one of the lower elevation trails and a good one to hike early in the season. The trail yesterday was not really ready for hiking just yet. There were a few hike ready dry spots, but most of the trail was filled with spring run off and it was a trick navigating and rock hopping to stay out of the wet spots. Please be sure to click on an image to see it larger.
Two days after the Spring Equinox, Mother Nature announced spring had arrived in the mountains of Rocky Mountain National Park and the Estes Valley with a booming afternoon thunderstorm that resulted in a small amount of spring snow. There were already signs of spring around though. RMNP Trails was reporting the Hooker’s Townsend Daisy (Easter Daisy) already in full bloom along the sunny and low elevation Lumpy Ridge, there were reports of a bear in a tree in the Riverside Dr area, an aspen patch not far from the Beaver’s Meadow Visitor Center had started to bloom catkins, and chipmunks appeared around my bird feeder. The weather report is calling for more snow on Friday. It must be spring time in the Rockies. The trails in the lower montane regions of the Park are treacherous right now. The packed snow on the trails melt into a slush during the day but freeze into a glaze overnight. Either micro spikes or ice skates are needed. And if the ice does melt off, it often leaves a slimy muddy patch to slip and slide on, challenging ones aerobic agilities. If you really want a taste of spring now, it might be best to head for a trail down around Lyons. Otherwise, just head back up into winter in the subalpine Bear Lake area. That’s where I went. I wanted to make another try at Timberline Falls. On the morning I had planned to journey up, the skies were overcast and not looking good. So I thought I would wait a day for improved conditions. But, of course, by afternoon the
Even though it looked like winter, the day was warm and the conditions were starting to change. A squirrel scurried in front of me across the snow. It stopped briefly to consider me, but it seemed to be on a tight schedule and quickly disappeared. I trekked along in this first portion of the hike lost in thought about the different ways people connect with nature. For some, a journey into the high mountains is held with a quiet reverence. But children like to play in nature and seldom show such reverence. I thought about how reverence for nature seems to develop for them through their playfulness.
I resumed my hike up the snow filled drainage when a couple of skiers swooshed down, working to maintain control. They stopped briefly uphill from me and I asked them where they had skied from. They had gone up to Andrews Glacier but decided the conditions were not favorable, so they turned back. They had had a good day
led to the base of the drift where someone with snow shovels had mined out snow caves. The opening of one I checked out was small and I peaked in to see a small room that might cozily fit three or four people. Turning back to the main snow trail, another skier slid to a stop and asked how big the snow caves were. He was carrying an overnight pack and had spent the night out somewhere on the far end of The Loch. It had been a good night with out much wind. I
It was practically a windless day at The Loch and I found a seat beneath one of the wind twisted Bristle Pines and watched the clouds shift around. What ever blue sky there might have been over the peaks earlier was quickly disappearing. I pulled some
I packed up my pack and finished my trek to the snow covered Timberline Falls. The clouds were moving down on the peaks now so I turned to head back.    Why is the return always longer when it’s not? This last week, after the snowbomb cyclone that hit the high plains with a vengeance, I tried out Wild Basin. I had not been there yet this winter and I found the road closed at the entrance gate; that would add some distance to the destination. The road was well covered with snow though, and the trail had not been packed down too much yet. I shoed around Copeland Lake and along the lower section of the road, going past the mid way gate that is the usual winter parking area. The walk to the Thunder Lake trailhead was an enjoyable travel, with a stop along the river in one of the few places that had open water. There were fluffy piles of snow perched on top of boulders and thin slices of ice where the boulders met the surface water. The open water maneuvered around the boulders and sounded a little like a summer mountain stream, pleasant. It was quite amazing to look around and see all the water that was about to melt and run down toward the Mississippi Delta and think of all of the flooding that it will do along the way over the next couple of months (there’s a report coming out of Chatham in the UP of Michigan of snow depths over 200 inches, yes, over 16 ft of snow, holy wuh!!!).  I past by the Finch Lk trailhead quickly and then rounded the corner to the Thunder Lk trailhead. I had a good pace going and it didn’t seem to take too long to get there. I walked onto the little foot bridge that crossed the small creek at the trailhead and stopped to see if there was any open water, but there was not, it was all snow. I continued into the trees. A skier somewhere up ahead was breaking trail. He had passed me back on the road and when he passed, I notice he was not carrying a day pack. But peeking out of his back pocket, I could see the top of a soda can and by the color of it, it looked to be Dr Pepper. At least he was packing some energy. I tried to stay out of his tracks because I have heard somewhere that snowshoes can wreck a good ski track.  My friend, the aspen I noticed all of the familiar spots along that lower section of the trail and that some of the understory trees were still holding snow on their branches, while all the tall skinny trees that were being swayed by a warmish wind higher up had already lost their snow. I branched off to the Lower Copeland Falls but found it covered with bunches of snow all over. On the way up to the upper falls, I stopped and looked at some aspens. Most of them were showing red tips that had emerged on the end of the branches. They were thinking about summer also.  I arrived at the upper falls and found more open water from the little bit of turbulence coming off falls, covered over with deep snow. I remembered being here during the summer and watching a pair of Ouzel birds that habitated here. At that time, the falls were roaring with summer runoff and the Ouzels kept flying to a spot on the small cliff that embraces the falls. I assumed they had a nest there. While I sat there watching them busily catching food in the water below the loud falls, often diving under the water, I thought about how the only sound the young would ever hear until they flew from the nest would be the roar of the fall, which I thought was loader than city traffic. It’s a very sustained loud sound next to the falls.  Upper Copeland Falls I imagine they would know that river sound so well that they could heard different sounds coming from the river that I would never notice. Although John Muir heard those sounds when he was writing about the Sierra Ouzels: “[H]is music is that of the streams refined and spiritualized. The deep booming notes of the falls are in it, the trills of the rapids, the gurgling of margin eddies, the low whispering of level reaches, and the sweet tinkle of separate drops oozing from the ends of mosses and falling into tranquil ponds.” ~ Muir 1894 (I really need to listen to the sounds of water falls better!!) But I didn’t see any Ouzels flying around today and I wondered what they did during the winter (John Muir’s Ouzel, now officially known as the American Dipper, migrate altitudinally, that is moving to lower elevation during the winter, so says audubon.org). While I was at the falls, I had a drink of water and a bite to eat and I wondered how much farther I should go. I traveled up the trail a little further, but not as far the Calypso Cascades. By the way the snow was covering over the river down lower, I figured they were likely covered with snow also and hardly recognizable.  I was stooped down in the snow photographing a small patch of open water when the skier that had been breaking trail skied past on his return. I asked him if had made to the falls. He had, but was gone before I could ask how they were. I decided it was time to turn back also.
Retracing the tracks the skier and I had made, we ran into another set of tracks that only went as far as the lower falls. Having already pass through all of this, I didn’t feel a reason to stop, I was more focused on the return. I traveled as if I were in a hurry to get somewhere. And this is where the going seemed to get longer. Even though I’m sure I was not taking as much time, all of a sudden, the road seemed to be twice as long as before and I wondered in the moment, numerous times, why this was. The day had grown warm and the snow had become soft. I traveled with my coat unzipped and my hat in my hand. As I past people who were just heading out, so late in the day it seemed, they all gave me a smile. I gave them a friendly hello back, but kept up my pace. It seemed to be taking forever to get to Copeland Lake. But then, there it was and though I hustled around, I felt like I was dragging. Finally, the parking area and then the car. After taking the snowshoes off, I hopped into the front seat and happened to catch a glimpse in the rearview mirror, and then took a closer look. My strands of hair looked as if they had just gone limp from a jolt of electric shock, they were sticking out every which way. And just like the people that had passed me, I smiled. Rocky Mountain National Park is remarkable, in part, because of the rapid rise in elevation. If a raven were to lift off from the top branch of a ponderosa pine at the Beaver Meadows Visitor Center and fly a straight line to the top of Flattop Mtn, that raven would have flown 8 miles and gained 4,524ft (if another raven also took flight from a nearby ponderosa and headed south for 8 miles, that raven would have to gain 6,459ft in order to land on top of Longs Peak). Over that short 8 miles, these two ravens would have flown over extremely varied terrain and vegetation, classified as the montane, the subalpine, and the alpine life zones. It is a quick lesson on the significance that elevation plays for life on this planet. During the winter, that elevation change plays out in snowfall amounts. On any given winter day, it would be possible to leave the beaver meadows area on a somewhat mild day with patches of snow caught in bushes and hiding in the shadows, and drive up the Bear Lake corridor into full on winter with many feet of snow. Thus becomes the dilemma for the traveler on foot. What foot gear do you use, because many trails can begin with not much snow, where micro spikes are good for ice patches on the frozen dirt trail, but farther up the trail there’s deep snow where skis or snowshoes are the thing to have on your feet. If you want to start on snow, there are basically three main ski corridors in the Bear Lake area. There’s the trial that goes up the Glacier Gorge and leads to MIlls Lake and the Loch, the short trail to Dream and Emerald Lakes that the photographers like to run up in the early morning hours to catch the gorgeous sunrises off of Hallet Pk, and the longer trail toward Flattop Mtn, Bierstadt Lake, and Lake Helene located below Notchtop Mtn. Generally speaking, if you are breaking trail after a fresh snow it can be pretty easy to know where the trail goes through the trees. However, there is one spot on the way to Lake Helene where trail location can be difficult. I followed some tracks that had lost the trail on my way over to Lake Helene. Quite a meander. I finally gave up and navigated my own way.  Looking into the upper Glacier Gorge from the Flattop Mtn trail I began at the at Bear Lake parking lot at a lazy 10:00. The day was clear, warmish, and mostly calm with some breeze, and for most of the day I traveled without my hat and gloves on and my coat unzipped. Taking the Flattop Mtn trail from Bear Lake, I snowshoed on packed snow past the first cutoff for Bierstadt Lake at 10:20 and the next cutoff for Flattop Mtn at 10:40. At 10:50, heading toward Lake Helene now, I passed under ski tracks that were making turns coming down through the trees on my left, while the trees on my right opened up to views looking east all the way down to the meadows around Lake Estes. Longs Peak peaked through trees behind me from the south. Looking down over the view of the surrounding forest on this day, it looked almost like summer because all of the snow had fallen off the trees and was hiding below them. The only real sign of winter was a white dot surrounded by green pines. That dot was the ice and snow that covered over Bierstadt Lake.
windswept snow. Some call this the Flattop Drift and like skiing this hard pack snow. From this point, the traveler makes a bee line across this open section just above the tree line. The trail on the other side dips back into the protected trees. Finding that spot where the trail enters the trees can sometimes be difficult. If you are the first one out after a fresh snow, there will likely be others that will follow in your tracks. I guess it could be fun to take everyone on a wild goose chase in search of the trail. Or, you could just head off in the right direction.
Notchtop Mtn comes into view. In the summer, the trail goes around Two Rivers Lake and you hardly notice the pond is there. But in the winter, that’s where you want to go. In fact, the photography is better from Two Rivers Lake than Lake Helene. Two Rivers is a bigger pond and sits back from Notchtop for a better photographic composition, whereas Notchtop soars over Lake Helene so much it’s hard to effectively get a good photograph of it all. Also the ice is better at Two Rivers Lake, maybe because it’s a deeper pond.
From Lake Helene, one does get a good view into the Ptarmigan Glacier basin, which Notchtop overlooks to the south. It’s a collection basin for snow and it looks like it’s going to be winter up there for a while. The wind plays with some snow dust on the
Thin clouds had materialized overhead, but the midday sun was still doing its best to start the melting process. That seemed like an unlikely process for a while with more spring snows still to collect. But everyday, the sun gets its licks in and sends rivulets of water down slope and into the Big Thompson River. I walk over to the edge and look down on Odessa Lake where the rivulets of water flow into and out of.
behind the ridge. 3 days later, the deck is covered with a foot of snow. More winter ventures yet to come.
Nothing. I turned the key in the ignition again, and again, nothing. This trip to Timberline Falls in the Loch Vale was not off to a good start and I thought about bailing right then and there. But, after finally getting a jump from a friend, I was at the Glacier Gorge parking lot by noon. Just a little late. I started gathering my gear, pack, camera bag, poles, snowshoes. Huh? Where are the snowshoes? Huh! Did I really forget to load the snowshoes? Wow! I guess if I was looking for reason to bail, this would do it.  Well, I thought to myself sitting in the parking lot, the trail to Alberta Falls should be well packed from snowshoers. In fact, I would guess that most of the people on the trail at this time of year would be going well beyond the one mile to Alberta Falls and are snowshoeing to either Mills Lake or The Loch. And since we had not had any fresh snow in a while, there was a good chance I could get to one of the two lakes just hiking in my boots on packed snow. As late as the day was though, and without the snowshoes, Timberline Falls was not going to be in the cards today. Alright, I told myself, I’ll get on the trail and just see how things go. About an hour latter, I was at the trail junction for Mills Lake and The Loch. The day was warm and there wasn’t any fresh snow on the trees, and Alberta Falls was so filled in with snow it wasn’t even recognizable as a waterfall. As I walked along, I watched for interesting shadow patterns in the trees to photograph, but nothing had caught my attention. Standing at the junction, I debated which lake I should go to. I looked at the sun, low on the horizon, it would be setting behind the mountain ridges soon.  According to the trail sign, The Loch was 0.8 miles away, only 0.2 miles more than Mills Lake (though getting to the Loch always seemed to take much longer to me). But I decided to hike up to The Loch anyways, since that was on the way to my original destination. Not too far up the trail, I stop to quiz Steve and Walt who were coming down from The Loch. They also did not have snowshoes on. I asked how things went. Steve said they would have faired better with snowshoes. Walt said there was a spot where the trail just disappeared under the snow. I knew where that spot was, I had encountered that spot before when winter trekking to The Loch. In fact, this is one of the last places for the snow to melt off this trail in early summer. It’s a spot where the terrain begins to descend below the lake. The winter winds drop off the high peaks that surround The Loch, gathering considerable speed and snow, before shooting across the lake, sandpapering the ice and blasting any trees and persons in its path. The wind then launches straight out over the tops of the trees from the lake. But at this particular  spot about 30-40 yards below the lake, some of the snow carried by the wind drops out and creates a sizable drift over the trail. It usually means losing all traces of the trail and knee deep wading for a little bit if you didn’t have snowshoes. I felt I could manage that. They also commented on how strong the wind gusts were while they sat for lunch at the lake. But Steve said it was absolutely gorgeous there. I knew that was true. I thanked them for the info and continued on, but only for a few moments. I decided it was not too late to change my mind and head for Mills Lake instead. At this point in the day, Mills Lake just seemed like a better destination. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but it always seems like the wind is stronger at The Loch. I speculated that it had something to do with The Loch’s east-west orientation whereas the ridges on either side of Mills Lake were oriented more north-south. A fine bit of pure speculation, I thought to myself, and soon I was crossing over the open rock slabs that lead to Mills Lake at just past 1:30.  It was windy at the lake, but not horrendous. The wind had done a terrific job of clearing the snow off the entire ice covered lake and the ice was thick and polished smooth. I dropped my pack, pulled my camera out of the bag and started taking pictures. Though the sun was casting shadows off The Spearhead farther up, there was still sun on the icy lake. Snow filled the cracks in the ice, creating interesting patterns, and I ventured out onto the slick ice a little ways and dropped down to photograph the patterns. The wind caught me camera bag and scooted it back across the ice toward the shoreline. I moved around to different parts of the lake trying to bring the large boulders protruding from the ice into the foreground. At one point a jet raced through my photo, leaving a contrail stretching behind it like a taut piece of white yarn. Wrecking the photo I had just set up, I rolled over on the ice and groaned. The shadow from the west ridge was beginning to move across the lake now and I moved up the shoreline trying to stay in the sunlight. But once the shadow had drifted across the lake, I packed up and started to head back, happy I had made it before losing the sun at 2 o’clock. There were a couple of other people taking pictures and one commented to me that they liked the light with the shadow on the lake. I looked back and saw interesting light patterns.  The surrounding peaks were still basking in the late day sun and they cast a reflection on the ice that was not seen until west ridge blocked the sun. The reflected lighting created little shadows on the dimples in the surface of the ice as if frozen lake ripples. To the right, the southern ridge line blocked the reflection leaving subtle shades of rippled blue. A very different and beautiful kind of image emerged with the shadow. Though the sun on the distant peaks drew the immediate attention of the eye, the real beauty was found in the shadow with its varied color and texture. Once again, as with much of this day, I reconsidered things, reached for my camera and tripod, and stayed a little longer at the lake. There were many opportunities to walk away today, and sometimes the situation is such that turning back makes the most sense. But often if we stay open, we can find a way forward, even if the outcome might be different than what we had originally envisioned.
I swung my car onto the Moraine Park Campground road and looked beyond the vast Moraine Park up into the mountain valleys where my destination lie and I knew at that point I wasn’t going to be having any lunch at my destination. My destination was Fern Lake and from the looks of things, there were ferocious winds and snow channeling its
I parked in an empty parking lot at 8:50 am. This was going to be one of those rare days in the Park when no one was going to be on the trail. I was on my own on this day. From the trailhead, the Lake is listed as 3.8 miles, but nobody gets a parking spot at the trailhead anymore. Either the small lot is full in the summer, or the road going to it is closed for the winter, like today. The walk from the extended parking lot, where the shuttle bus will drop you off, is an additional .7 miles. So, the real distance to Fern Lake is four and a half miles, or 9 miles round trip. I grabbed my snowshoes out of the car and hoisted them under my left arm. There was only a thin layer of packed snow on the road from the parking lot, and there wasn’t likely going to be any significant snow all the way to the Pool, 2.4 miles away. I wasn’t sure just how much snow I would encounter after the Pool, but I was very sure I would need the snowshoes somewhere after that. So carrying them seemed the best option to me, better than wearing them over rock and frozen dirt. I was curious about the conditions up higher because we hadn’t gotten very much snow in Estes for quite a while. And, I guess, I wondered just how adverse and horrendous I would find the conditions at the lake. I also wondered how I would do getting up there, I had not done a winter outing like this in a while. I felt like I was dressed for winter travel, and I didn’t really question my ability to get up there, though I wondered how worn I would feel by the end. But I think I wanted to see what it would
but here in the trees, the wind was mostly overhead, and travel on the trail along the Big Thompson River was familiar and easy going. I stopped several times, putting down the snowshoes, to photograph the frozen river ripples on the river and consider the undulating and sensuous form and beauty of the ice. Even in its frozen state, the river was to be admired. Though water still flowed below the ice, the river was silent. But the noise from the constant raging wind overhead filled the void left by the river and made me want to keep moving. Soon I was at the Pool. I thought this might be a good time to put the snowshoes on, but then thought the trail for the next half mile might still be mostly cleared, so I carried my snowshoes about another 30 yards and then encountered a sizable drift over the trail. I went ahead and put them on and I didn’t regret having done that, I found there would be plenty of snow from here on. This next brief section of trail above the Pool stills travels along the valley floor and three streams converge along this stretch. After I carefully negotiated a narrow footbridge with my snowshoes, the trail begins to rise up toward the glaciated hanging valleys of the Odessa Gorge by crossing the south hillside of Spruce Canyon. From the trail in the trees I could hear the constant wind tearing out of Spruce Canyon like a high pitched freight train. The trail switchbacks through tall spruce trees to Fern Falls, then cuts west and switchbacks again before finally turning towards Fern Lake. By now, most of the elevation to Fern Lake has been gained and there’s considerably deeper snow. Even though there are no new tracks and the wind has covered over most of the old tracks at this point, the snow path is easy to follow as it holds a steady course through the spruce trees. Some trees are holding up other trees that have died and fallen into their arms and all along the trail you can hear these trees that are holding the dead moan and squeak and sing, caused by the friction between the two trees as they sway in the wind.
I knew if I approached the lake in the normal way over that rise, I would likely get blasted with a face full of freezing wind gusts, which didn’t appeal to me. I opted to work around the back side of the patrol cabin through the trees. The snow was piled up super deep here and my snowshoes were having trouble keeping me afloat. But I paddled my way through the snow and down to the lake’s edge. There were patches of exposed ice out on the lake where the main wind channel flowed. In order to get the obligatory lake photo, I kept the wind to my back and skirted the edge of the lake, finally wading across that wind channel to the lakes outlet. Along the lakes edge, the wind sculptures interesting patterns and I would have loved to spend some time photographing these pieces of nature art . But the lighting was
camera bag for very long. So I huddled behind some small pines and peaked around them across the lake and up the Gorge. On a clear day, Notchtop, the Little Matterhorn and Gabletop provide supreme backdrops to the lake. But on this day, the other side of the lake was hardly visible and only Galbetop struggle to barely appear from the low, snow filled clouds, and my camera’s exposure didn’t even acknowledge its effort. Not finding much reason to dilly dally any longer, I left the lake to be more thoroughly enjoyed on another day. My destination was reached, and it was lunch time. I retraced my steps back and quickly descended to Fern Falls before dropping my day pack for a bite. Then I moved back down the trail at a good pace. I was surprised that at certain sections of the trail, the wind had already blown over my own tracks from just less than two hours ago and at one point, back down on the valley floor before the foot bridge, I briefly lost the trail. But then I was back at the Pool removing the snowshoes and continued without stopping until I reached the trailhead. By 2:50, I was back at the car, a 6 hour day. My pace averaged 1.5 miles an hour, including stops.
of an effort. Winter though has it’s own beauty, of course. And if you accept it for what it is, a part of a larger seasonal picture, it is possible to find the connection. But just to be sure, I think I’ll take a few trips.
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"The wild requires that we learn the terrain, nod to all the plants and animals and birds, ford the streams and cross the ridges, and tell a good story when we get back home." ~ Gary Snyder
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“Hiking -I don’t like either the word or the thing. People ought to saunter in the mountains - not hike! Do you know the origin of the word ‘saunter?’ It’s a beautiful word. Away back in the Middle Ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going, they would reply, A la sainte terre,’ ‘To the Holy Land.’ And so they became known as sainte-terre-ers or saunterers. Now these mountains are our Holy Land, and we ought to saunter through them reverently, not ‘hike’ through them.” ~ John Muir |
